Mind the gap

An interesting article by the FT’s Economics Editor, Chris Giles, this morning in which he suggests that ‘the gap between action and sentiment puts the economy at a tipping point’.

Take surveys of households and companies at face value and the economy appears to be in free fall. Most measures of business confidence are sharply down on a year ago and the Gfk/NOP poll of consumers’ confidence about future economic prospects has declined to its lowest level since 1982.

But what households and companies are saying and what they are doing has rarely been so different. For all the misery poured out to pollsters, hard figures so far show people behaving as if they really believe Britain’s economy problems will be short and shallow.

Companies are not yet taking really tough decisions to cut costs. Instead they are keeping their workforce intact, presumably in the belief that it is better to hang on to employees in bad times because the good times will be with us again soon.

Spending time wisely

An interesting report by Economics Editor Chris Giles in this morning’s FT, that ‘data show that confidence is down but consumer and business behavious tells another story’. He suggests that ‘the gap between action and sentiment puts the economy at a tipping point’.

We are certainly seeing this day to day: work continues, but ask anyone about what happens next and the outlook is decidedly gloomy. At a lavish corporate event last week, to which I took one of my daughters, she was most surprised not by the artwork on display but by, to her, the incongruity of unlimited champagne and the chorus of doom-sayers quaffing it.

There are various steps that we can take in our practices to see us through the slowdown, whether it be long or short. In an email circular last month, Nick Jarrett-Kerr of Kerma Partners, identified “where partners should be spending their time during a market turndown” as

skills building
steam-lining and re-engineering work
getting even closer to clients
getting involved in internal projects
motivating and developing their precious assets [their teams]

Most partners see fee-earning as their key task, and in most practices this is the case, but, as Jarrett-Kerr notes, ‘the silver lining in the recessional cloud may be that at last the excuses have been removed for partners avoiding to engage in valuable non chargeable work’.

Devon fudge

In a recent interview, the managing partner of Bond Pearce, commenting on the announcement of the closure of the firm’s Exeter office, explained

We are committed to the Devon practice. What I would say to them is ‘look at what the clients are saying to us’, which is that they are looking for a different sort of offering from us, which does not require us to be in every city in every part of our region.

So far so good, but these brave words are only a little undermined by the (unconfirmed) report that although Bond Pearce is moving out of Southernhay Gardens, it is still intending to have a “box on the motorway” at Exeter, to see clients, and no doubt to allow its Exeter based partners to avoid having to flog down the A38 everyday.

As the Chief Executive of another Devon firm told me last week, “It’s just a fudge”.

Email appropriately

For further thoughts on reducing email, see Doug Cornelius’ blog post Email Deluge about trying to free yourself from email on KM Space and the comments string. And for a more lighthearted take, read Lucy Kellaway in Monday’s FT, Shock of BPC: before personal computers.

I have just started a 24-hour low-tech vigil to mark the stepping down of Bill Gates, who more than any other human being has made the modern office what it is. I wanted to celebrate his departure from full-time work at Microsoft by reminding myself of what life was like when windows were things that let the light in.

Last Tuesday afternoon, I composed an automatic e-mail reply that said: “Lucy Kellaway is in the office, but not on the computer. You can send me a letter, or ring, or visit me on the second floor.” Then I pressed Submit, but got a message saying: “Error. Database has too many unique field names. Ask administrator to compact database.” God, I hate computers.

I love them, too. I have no truck with the idea that they have frazzled our minds and shrunk our souls: most office workers seem to be doing perfectly well, as far as I can judge. Although I am addicted to e-mail, it’s quite under control. Twenty-four hours’ cold turkey would be no problem.

Leeches?

Just as the police suffer from being typecast, so too do lawyers. I enjoy The Policeman’s Blog, but the most recent post Leeches, Vultures and Sturmey Archer, did nothing for my lawyerly self-esteem (you need to read the whole post: the original story was in the Daily Telegraph),

‘Village bobby’ (he’s actually a PCSO but for once that’s a mere detail) Nick Barker has spent the last who-knows-how-long pootling round the Kent countryside on a bike, doing all the usual village bobby things.
Now he’s been stopped, on health-and-safety grounds.
The problem is, he hasn’t passed Kent Police’s ‘two-day Basic Police Cycle Skills course’.
Until he can pass this course, he’s having to travel around the villages he looks after by bus and on foot.
A Kent spokeswoman said: “All officers must complete a bicycle training course before they can ride a bike on duty, it is about ensuring their safety and the safety of those around them. The purpose of the course is to ensure they have all the relevant skills and knowledge to make the best use of the bike within their roles.”
Dear God in Heaven, how have we come to this?
‘All the relevant skills and knowledge’ to ride a bike? That would be getting on, pedalling and getting off, then. Two day course, £200 a day for the trainer. It’s nice work if you can get it.
It’s not fair to blame Kent Police. All major publicly-funded organisations are led by unimaginative and cowardly timeservers who have forgotten what real life is like.
No, the blame lies on the shoulders of the lawyers, hovering overhead and waiting for Nick Barker to fall off his bike.
What next? Barker goes on the course – and still falls off. Sue the trainers? The bicycle manufacturers? The highways people? Who cares? Sue anyone, as long as you sue someone.
And who foots the bill for these leeches? You.